


Precision Push/Pull

by PCrabapple



Series: Touch for Gordon? [3]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware
Genre: Anxiety, Blushing, Catheters, Embarrassment, Erections, Fluff, Hugging, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Urine, Overstimulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Sounding, Touch-Starved, Touching, Urethral Play, but no watersports, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: The HEV suit has some particular features that help out with various bodily functions. It's time for Gordon to finally remove the damned thing, but there are certain parts he's less than thrilled to have to deal with. Luckily Benrey is still around, despite having been murdered, and is always willing to help!
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: Touch for Gordon? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922557
Comments: 17
Kudos: 232





	Precision Push/Pull

**Author's Note:**

> READ. THE. TAGS.
> 
> For the sake of absolute clarity: This story focuses on putting objects into the urethra (the dick hole) for sexual pleasure (though it doesn't start out with that purpose)
> 
> Yeah uh... so this series takes a bit of a left turn, content-wise. That's why it's a series and not a multi-chapter fic. Sorry if anyone is unable to finish the series due to the kink content. But I have been secretly laughing for ages about the kinky whiplash I've had planned. If you're unsure, give it a chance, I think it's pretty cool, and even though it involves equipment meant for urine, there's no actual pissplay going down here.
> 
> ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS SHOULD BE READING THIS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

“Yo...what is that?” Benrey asks over his shoulder, during Gordon’s second trip to the movie theater’s bathroom. Gordon jolts in surprise, but he should have known Benrey wouldn’t have the courtesy to leave him alone while he’s pissing. Or...what passes for pissing in the HEV suit.

“Christ. None of your fucking business. Why the hell are you haunting the bathroom of all places?!”

“I’m not haunting. I’m chilling. It’s a nice bathroom. Seriously, what up with the tube, bro?” Benrey steps up next to him. And Gordon supposes he can’t blame him for being curious. It’s not like Gordon’s dick is even out, so he can’t truly be offended by the breach of privacy.

“Ughh. God...it’s...a catheter line.” Gordon closes the valve at the end of the line, so he’s at least no longer expelling urine while talking to Benrey.

“A what?” Benrey leans against the urinal divider, looking down at the thin, flexible tube coming out of the hip of the HEV suit. Of course Benrey doesn’t know what that is, and so of course Gordon has to explain it. To the fucking alien asshole he killed! His life got so absurd so suddenly, and it keeps getting more ridiculous.

“Fuck. Okay...so the HEV suit isn’t supposed to come off unless the whole thing comes off. It’s a sealed system,” Gordon begins, face already flushing, “And you can’t have it opening up whenever you have to urinate. What if it popped open in a radioactive area or something? So...so they put a...hollow line directly into...the bladder. And then the...urine can be routed through a safer opening, I guess.”

“...Huh?” Benrey says.

Gordon groans. “It’s a goddamn tube up my dick so i can piss without taking the suit off!” He exclaims in frustration.

“Oh… nice.”

“Not… not really,” Gordon sighs. “It’s fucking weird! I’ve been pissing like this for a month and I’m gonna have to take the HEV suit off soon, and that’s going to be a whole Thing. Tommy’s dad gave me this tool to open it, but you can only do it from the back, and it’s not like I’m super flexible in this stupid suit. Then I have to take the catheter out which is… fuck… I don’t even wanna think about it…” He shudders. He’s gotten used to the sensation of having it inside of him; it’s barely noticeable anymore. But the prospect of taking it out is daunting and stomach-churning.

It’s good to vent, though. Even if it’s to Benrey. And who else would he vent to? Despite the whole murder thing, he and Benrey have shared some… moments. They’ve developed an odd rapport, and- Gordon hates to even think it- intimacy, thanks to Gordon’s various bodily struggles. There’s no one better to talk with about this rather sensitive issue, as ludicrous as it is.

Gordon sneaks a sidelong glance at Benrey, finding him watching almost thoughtfully. Benrey catches him looking and Gordon busies himself with storing the catheter line in its hip compartment.

“I could do it,” Benrey says. Gordon falters, looks back at him.

“Uh...wh-which thing? Taking the suit off or…”

“Both?” Benrey shrugs. “You need someone to open up the Hev suit from the back, right? And you sound kinda chicken about taking the other thing out. I could do both.”

The high flush drains from Gordon’s face at the thought of what that would entail. “N-no uh… I mean I couldn’t ask you… you don’t have to-”

“What the hell man, you trust me to noclip hug you, and put a knife on your face, but not to pull out your dick tube?” Benrey tsks, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“That was before-”

“Before what, you killed me? Psh. If anything _I_ should be scared to have _you_ pull out _my_ dick tube. Let’s go, where’s this special tool? Other than the one standing next to me.”

“Wh- I… I can’t do it here, I’m…” Gordon lowers his voice, despite how loudly he was just talking about a much more indelicate subject. “I’m only in my underwear under this thing. I have to wait till I get home.”

Benrey raises his eyebrows, though the rest of his expression remains blank. “Sooo, are you inviting me to your place, then?”

* * *

That’s how Benrey ends up in Gordon’s house, where Gordon does his living, standing in the living room, where he does his sitting. Seeing the odd man in such a familiar, mundane setting is jarring. Benrey looks normal enough, more so without the helmet and vest. The juxtaposition is uncanny only because of what Gordon knows and has seen.

“Okay, I don’t know where exactly you’re supposed to use this, Tommy’s dad said it should be obvious,” Gordon says, handing Benrey the wrench/screwdriver/key thing Mr. Coolatta had given him.

“Uh… yeah I think I see it,” Benrey says behind him, and he taps the metal tool against some part of the HEV suit’s backplate. “You ready?”

“Of course I’m fucking ready! I was ready about an hour after I first put the thing on a month ago,” Gordon snaps.

“Suit yourself,” Benrey replies, slotting the tool into its apparent home, “Or… unsuit yourself I guess. Haha.”

Gordon is not ready. Once the top half of the suit has been removed, he feels more than naked; cold, raw, like a layer of his skin has been peeled away from his body.

“Oh. Oh god, I…” Gordon shivers, looks at his trembling hands. They’re both there. He’d half expected the replaced hand to be made of metal, maybe alien skin or something. But it’s his own flesh as far as he can tell, albeit with a nasty looking scar at his wrist.

“You okay?” Benrey says, stepping around in front of him, tilting his head with what might be concern.

“Uh… I dunno. It’s…” Gordon wraps his arms around himself against the chill, feels his own skin against itself for the first time in a month. The sensation of air on his torso, the ability to touch and sense things again, it’s all so much. He can perceive the grime between his palms and upper arms. He needs to cut his fingernails. He needs to wash his hands. He needs a fucking shower. He needs…

“Need a hug?” Benrey asks, holding his arms open. Gordon stares at him, then at his arms. Gordon _is_ cold… But he’s also gross, a film of too-many days unwashed sweat evaporating off his newly exposed skin, staining his tank top (more of a stank top now). Not to mention the dead skin cells. He doesn’t even want to look at the inside of the suit.

Benrey must know this, or have some inkling Gordon isn’t in the most huggable state. Yet he’s still offering. There’s the magnetic pull of the man’s open arms again. It’s stronger than that day in the Black Mesa break room. Because now Gordon knows what it’s like to hug him.

He steps forward into Benrey, letting the other man wrap his arms around him, the way Gordon had shown him. It’s still awkward and uncertain, but Benrey is the only living thing he’d touched fully like this throughout the entire ordeal. It’s something familiar. More familiar than being out of the suit, in a chronological sense. Benrey’s so warm, so soft and real and _good_.

 _Benrey can be good._ Gordon thinks, wrapping his arms around him in turn. Fuck, why hadn’t he asked for this again during the Cascade? Why had everything been so shitty and stupid and awful when it could have been like this, if only for a little bit?

“This okay?” Benrey asks, voice reverberating through his chest and into Gordon’s.

“Y-yeah,” Gordon says, his own voice high and thready. Fuck, fuck, tears are pricking at the corners of his eyes. He pushes away, weaseling out of Benrey’s grasp and turning away. “Uh… I… I’m super fuckin’ gross and dirty,” he says, trying to steady his shaking voice. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He makes for a quick exit to the bathroom.

“That’s fine, I don’t give a fuck about your dirt,” Benrey calls after him.

“No, it’s okay. You can uh… sit down or… you don’t have to stay. Thanks!” Gordon says, slamming the bathroom door shut and locking it for good measure. Not that he could stop Benrey if he really wanted to get in. It’s more about locking himself, and his embarrassing reactions, in.

Gordon focuses on taking off the lower half of the HEV suit, disconnecting the catheter from the suit’s built-in tubing as carefully as possible, trying not to jostle it. Every tiny movement reminds him how far up into himself it is, how far it will have to be pulled out. The concentration works to hold back the confused feelings welling up in him. He crams the HEV suit into the corner to be dealt with, maybe burned, later.

When he gets into the shower, however, it’s impossible to keep the emotional floodgates closed. The hot water blasting his skin works as a kind of immersion therapy to his oversensitive body. It’s so nice and so new and so hot, and entirely too much, immensely overwhelming. He can almost pretend he doesn’t have tears streaming down his face; they’re instantly washed away by the scalding jets of water.

It’s a long shower. When Gordon emerges, dressed in a clean undershirt and boxers for the first time in entirely too long, he half expects Benrey to have left. But Benrey is still there. He’s sitting on his couch and scrolling through Gordon’s Wii library. “Don’t even have Red Steel,” Benrey mutters, shaking his head as Gordon peeks into the living room.

“Red Steel sucks.”

“Nah, maybe you just suck.”

“Maybe. Hey… uh… Benrey?” Gordon clears his throat. He’s agonized about this for the last ten minutes. He tried to do it himself, but every time he even looks at the catheter sticking out of the tip of his dick his fingers go numb, he has trouble breathing correctly. He has to ask for help.

“What? Need me to pull out your dick straw?” Benrey says without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Wh-” Well, that takes care of having to outright say it. “Fuck, please do _not_ call it that. It’s not even...urgh. But… yeah. I mean. I get it, if it’s too gross. I understand… You don’t have-”

“Bro.” Benrey drops the Wiimote on the couch and turns to face Gordon. “I said I would, didn’t I?” His expression is quite serious. Gordon finds his cheeks, already flushed from the hot shower, heating up a few degrees more.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think… um… okay. Let’s do this in the bathroom.” Gordon has made sure his bladder is bone-dry, as empty as possible. But the bathroom still seems the most appropriate place. Just in case. He turns and walks back in, stomach roiling with nerves.

“Wash your hands,” he says immediately when Benrey enters the small space.

Benrey stops snooping around Gordon’s bathroom to nod and comply. Gordon watches closely, making sure Benrey knows how to do it correctly. He’s never sure what Benrey is and isn’t familiar with when it comes to being a human. But he is quite proficient with his hands, as Gordon has experienced. There was the time he’d shaved Gordon’s face with the combat knife and…

And Gordon had gotten hard. Shit. He didn’t even think about it when he’d agreed to have Benrey help him with this. That’s not going to happen again, is it? No. No, this is different. He can’t imagine getting aroused by having the tube removed from his penis, when the very concept is so terrifying and embarrassing to him.

Gordon sits on the toilet, taking a deep breath. “So. Rule number one.” Benrey turns off the faucet, dries his hands and steps in front of Gordon. Gordon swallows as he looks up at him. Looming, sort of. But he’s not, really. He’s merely standing, gazing down at Gordon, waiting for instructions.

“Uh. Sit down,” Gordon says, pointing to the edge of the bathtub.

“Rule one is sit down?” Benrey asks. He perches on the lip of the tub, knee pressing into Gordon’s leg in the tight space. Gordon doesn’t move it, because it’s still so novel to have the heat of someone’s body against his.

“No… Rule one is um...don’t say anything about my dick, okay?”

“Dunno what I’d say,” Benrey says, gaze drifting to between Gordon’s legs. Gordon knows he’s going to be blushing throughout this whole cursed ordeal.

“Neither do I, and that’s what scares me. So please don’t.” Gordon takes a breath and carefully feeds the end of the catheter through the slit in his boxers, freeing the tip of his cock along with it.

“Kay…” Benrey says. Gordon can’t bring himself to look up, to see if Benrey is scrutinizing, judging, thinking of things he’s not allowed to say. Gordon doesn’t enjoy seeing the highly unnatural image of the tube skewering his dick, either. So he settles on gazing at Benrey’s chest, the rise and fall of his breath.

“So do I just… yank it out, or what?” Benrey asks, reaching out a hand.

“NO!” Gordon jerks back, hitting the toilet tank. The lid audibly scrapes against the porcelain. “God...fucking wait a second. I need to think.” He hates looking at it, but he has to.

He briefly read about the general process before he got freaked out and had to stop. But he knows the basic concept and what needs to be done. The first step is getting rid of the retention balloon. “So. There’s a sort of water bubble...thing, holding it in place in… in the bladder,” he explains, trying to avoid language such as ‘my bladder’ because it makes him all the more unnerved. “It has to be drained first.” Gordon carefully holds the end of the catheter, trying not to jostle it. He hates how every agitation can be felt inside him. If only Benrey could noclip it, reach in through his side and phase it right out of him. It would be much easier, if incredibly disturbing for several reasons. But it doesn’t work that way. It has to come out the way it went in.

“This part here,” Gordon points to the smaller tube off-shooting from the main line. “Pull the little cap out.”

Benrey is leaning in closer than Gordon is entirely comfortable with. But nothing about this is comfortable. He’s going to have to get over a few hang-ups before this is done.

“Pretty easy. You can’t do this part?” Benrey asks, even as he’s taking the line from Gordon and easing out the cap holding the water in. Gordon lets their fingers brush together. Even though it means they’re both almost touching his cock. He’s still greedy for any contact he can get. But now it’s his own awkwardness and societal norms instead of the HEV suit keeping him from getting what he wants in that regard.

“It’s… I...no. It’s hard to explain.” Gordon manages to find some words regardless. “It feels like doing surgery on myself or something.”

“Wow. Loser can’t even do some light self-surgery.” Benrey says, then adds, in a softer tone, “It’s cool. I get it.” Both of them watch the water drip from the opening of the line and into the toilet bowl between Gordon’s legs. When the flow stops Benrey looks back up at him. Gordon can’t stall anymore.

“Okay… go slow, okay?” Gordon says, taking a few deep breaths, psyching himself up. “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

“Okay?” Benrey asks with a raised eyebrow. He’s got the end of the catheter held delicately between thumb and forefinger, waiting for the go-ahead.

“Yeah, go ahead. Slowly!” he reminds Benrey.

“Hmn. Slow, yeah I think you said that.” Benrey moves his hand back. The sensation is immediate and alien.

“Slower!” Gordon shouts, grabbing hold of Benrey’s shoulder. Benrey stops immediately. Gordon takes a reluctant peek to see how far he’s taken it out. Maybe a few millimeters. Fuck, they’re going to be here all day.

Benrey gives a determined nod and concentrates, resting his elbows on his knees to steady his hands. “So demanding…” he mumbles.

“Oh, sorry, I’ve only got a fucking...tube stuck in my goddamn urethra!” Gordon snaps.

“Your what?”

“Ugh, never mind, keep going.” Gordon let’s go of Benrey, puts his hands on his thighs, clenching the fabric of his boxers.

Benrey does keep going, very, very slowly. The feeling is like nothing Gordon has ever experienced before. They’d used some sort of numbing gel on him when the thing was installed, so he hadn’t felt it at all. Now he has no such luxury, and he experiences every millimeter of the silicone tube as it slides through every millimeter of the inside of him. It’s not painful. But it’s extremely different from the usual sensations his penis receives.

And then there’s something else, a catch. The tube isn’t coming free so easily. Before Gordon can stop him, Benrey pulls harder against the resistance, and Gordon is treated to a wholly new level of strange sensation.

“Oh...oh fuck-” Gordon grabs the edge of the toilet seat under him as he realizes what must be happening. The balloon anchored inside of him must have not been fully drained. He pictures one of those anatomical diagrams of the reproductive system, a highly unsexy and clinical cross-section of his genitalia. He envisions the catheter feeding through his urethra, into his bladder. And that slightly bulged retention balloon is now being forced through the inside of his prostate as it’s pulled out.

“Ff!!” Gordon gasps, now grabbing Benrey’s knee. He’d hated imagining it before, but now he needs to in order to counter the unexpected arousal starting to radiate out from the spot.

“Oh, whoops uhh, did I mess up? Should I put it back?” Benrey asks, and again without waiting for an answer he pushes the tube back in. This sends another buzz of bizarre pleasure rippling through Gordon’s loins, unhindered by the offputting diagram in his mind.

“Mmh! Shit...” Gordon covers his mouth, other hand still on Benrey, squeezing hard as Benrey essentially rubs his prostate from the inside. The fact he’s touching Benrey while also receiving this foreign, dirty stimulation dawns on him and he pulls his hand away as if it’s been burned.

Benrey stops, finally. “What? Does it hurt? Bro, you gotta tell me what’s wrong. I dunno what the deal is when all you do is swear at me.”

He’s right, but Gordon can’t possibly explain what the deal is. It’s far too embarrassing. “It doesn’t hurt...I...I dunno…” he gasps out. He starts to rock a little as he’s filled with a rising panic, but that only rolls the thicker bit inside him more, makes it feel even better. He stops and groans into both of his hands. “Keep...keep going,” he manages to breathe out after a few moments. He has to keep going. To get this over with already so he never has to deal with it again.

Benrey cocks his head, peering at him curiously, and Gordon starts to wonder if he might have some inkling of what’s happening. But he seems so clueless about so many human things, surely he doesn’t know about the inner physiological workings of prostate stimulation. Gordon is pretty sure there’s nothing about urethral sounding in Heavenly Sword.

“If you say so, buddy,” Benrey says, and starts dragging the tube out again.

The next sound out of Gordon’s mouth would be difficult to classify as anything but one of mortified bliss as the catheter slips through that damned pile of nerves deep inside him.

“Oh fuck...oh my god...oh shit, oh fuck,” Gordon babbles into his palm, face burning as his cock inevitably begins filling out. Why the fuck is this happening to him? Hasn’t he gone through enough?

“Hey…” Benrey says, and Gordon peeks through his fingers, sure Benrey is about to say something about him getting hard for the weirdest fucking thing in the world. But Benrey is looking at his face, not his dick, as he puts a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. “You’re doing fine, bro. You got this.”

Gordon is a horrific swirl of emotions. It should be reassuring. And it is. But it’s also arousing in the most confusing way possible. It reminds him again of the moment in the Lambda complex locker room, when he’d gotten erect just from Benrey paying him such singular and careful attention. Why can’t he be touched by Benrey without crying or popping a boner? Hell, he might end up doing both at once if this acute and prolonged embarrassment continues.

He’s still not sure if Benrey even knows what exactly is happening. He might simply think Gordon’s distress is from pain or otherwise general discomfort. Should Gordon be relieved his arousal is going unnoticed? Should he feel guilty for putting Benrey in a situation he isn’t fully informed about? But it’s not like Gordon is able to control it. And this has to be done.

He can’t deal with this. He has to get the fucking catheter out of his dick so he can go curl up and die in a corner.

“Okay…” he mumbles shakily. “You can...go a little faster.” The sooner it’s over with, the better.

Benrey gives him another look Gordon can’t interpret, doesn’t even want to try to figure out, and keeps going, tugging harder this time.

Big mistake.

“Ah!” Gordon thought he could handle it. But the increased speed seems to increase the pleasure, and he can’t hold his stupid fucking tongue. “Holy shit, holy shit,” he wines, hands glued to his face, glasses digging painfully into the bridge of his nose. Gordon leans away, against the back of the toilet, as if he can somehow distance himself from his own debauchery.

It’s so fucking good, having his cock stroked from the inside like this. He hates how much he adores it, how each little pull makes more and more blood flow into his dick, stiffening and fattening it, making it pulse with arousal. His leg shakes with the pleasure and the effort of containing himself. His foot bounces uncontrollably against the floor as Benrey draws the tube out of him, slightly less slow and steady. How fucking long is this thing? “Oh my godddd,” Gordon nearly weeps.

“What? Slower again? You uhh, gotta make up your mind, my man.” There’s a teasing lilt in Benrey’s voice that turns Gordon’s stomach in a not altogether terrible way. “You can uh… keep grabbing on me like you were. If it helps.”

Gordon does want to touch Benrey, but he shouldn’t, maybe touching him will taint him with whatever Gordon’s problem is. _Why does it have to be Benrey?_ Gordon thinks. _It can only be Benrey,_ he thinks, near simultaneously.

“I dunno, I dunno, I don’t fucking know!” Gordon laments, looking in absolute horror through the gap between his fingers to see he is now fully hard, dick poking out of his boxers, standing straight up, so fucking proud of itself. Humiliation spreads throughout him, hot embarrassment filling him, threatening to spill from his tear ducts. It sends a few of its spare filthy tendrils straight to his traitorous cock, strengthening his erection, making the fact he’s very fucked up all the more apparent.

He covers his face again. “Just take it out. Fucking take it out.”

“Okay, okay, gimme a sec. Got a uh...different angle goin’ on here,” Benrey says, shifting closer to deal with the new position of Gordon’s erection. Then he adds, nearly under his breath, “‘Cause of your raging hard-on, damn... Aw fuck, I broke rule one, sorry.”

“Urrghh,” Gordon trembles with overwhelming shame. So much for Benrey not recognizing it for what it is. “Sorry, sorry, _sorry_ ,” he mutters into his hands, chewing on the flesh on the heel of his palm in his anxiety. He’s about to tell Benrey he can leave, that he can never talk to Gordon again if he wants, but Benrey’s hand is on his shoulder again.

“Gordon,” Benrey says, and Gordon allows himself a sliver to look between his fingers. Benrey’s face is very close to his.

“It’s okay, bro, don’t apologize,” Benrey says emphatically. “You’re doing good, man.” He pauses, eyes searching through the gaps in Gordon’s fingers. Then he tilts his head to the side and presses his lips to Gordon’s jaw. “Fuckin’...acing it here.” He hesitates again, glancing at Gorodn’s face, and moves down, brushes his lips against Gordon’s neck, nuzzles into it. “You’re doing so, so awesome for me.”

Gordon gasps, his dick twitches, and the only clear thought he has amidst the confused, surprised, intrigued cacophony in his head is to wonder what will happen if he comes while the tube is still inside of him.

Benrey wraps a warm, firm hand around Gordon’s cock, and Gordon thinks he may well find out. “It’s okay, this is fine.” Benrey says, leaning back to look at Gordon directly. His expression is a lot less ambiguous now, his curiosity blended with fondness and carnal intent. “You’re okay, right?”

Gordon can only nod weakly. He’s still absolutely mortified, but now that Benrey’s assured him it’s alright, he’s not disgusted, Gordon thinks he might be a little okay. Especially if Benrey keeps touching him like this.

Benrey licks his lips and glances at the hand encircling Gordon’s dick. “So this feels good, huh?” he says, and pulls the tube up another centimeter. Gordon shudders, biting the heel of his palm to stifle the noise that wants to come out. It’s different now with Benrey grasping him, pressure from inside and out. It’s so fucking amazing, but Gordon is no less embarrassed.

“What about this? How is it?” Benrey asks, squeezing the base of Gordon’s cock a bit as he pushes the catheter back in. Gordon’s hips jerk, he near-screams into his hand. “Gotta use words,” Benrey reminds him.

“Mmhh...It...fff I...don’t-kn-...agh! It’s fucking weird...!” Gordon’s words fall out haltingly between the jolts of sensation.

“Weird bad?” Benrey asks, pulling the tube nearly all the way out. Gordon’s moan is more of a choked sob.

“N-no!” Gordon admits, suddenly afraid that once the catheter is out this whole thing will be over. The realization he doesn’t want it to end is a groundbreaking discovery. He scrambles to grasp Benrey’s shoulder again, gripping hard, urging him not to remove it so suddenly.

“So thennnn… weird good?” Benrey deduces, feeding the tube slowly back into Gordon’s cock, his other hand stroking Gordon lightly throughout.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Gordon breathes as the pleasure seems to overtake his senses, and he confesses, “Yes, _yes,_ I- aaaah!”

“That’s…” Benrey pauses to stare at Gordon, ”That’s so cool bro,” he says, a note of awe in his voice.

Gordon has no clue what to say. All he can manage is a desperate, choked out "Fuuuuck…" as he slides his ass forward on the seat, getting nearer to Benrey.

“Nice. _Nice, _”__ Benrey mutters, eyes darting between Gordon’s cock and his half-hidden face, like he’s trying to intake as much of the scene as possible. He starts to move the catheter again, to Gordon’s intense delight. “Never uh...never seen this sorta thing in the… the stuff I watched. Y’know. Porn.”

“It’s…” Gordon squirms, trying to adjust to the new rhythm, to speak coherently. “It’s kinda…” Gordon can barely think to explain. He’s seen it, albeit briefly. He was too put off by the general idea to keep watching the porn clip. He would never have tried this of his own volition. It’s taken these bizarre circumstances to discover how much he fucking loves it. “It’s not typic-aahh!” Benrey has pushed the end of the catheter back through Gordon’s prostate, and he’s a total mess once again.

“Well, I’m not a total idiot, I know what a hard cock means, and what to do with it,” Benrey says, letting go of both Gordon’s cock and the catheter. He puts a hand on Gordon’s hip, steadying him. His other hand grips Gordon’s jaw, firm and strong like when he’d taken control while shaving Gordon’s face. Gordon freezes again, as if it's ingrained, as Benrey makes Gordon look him in the eyes. “I got a lot of practice on myself, thinkin’ about you,” he says, voice low and hoarse. Gordon’s stomach flips, his cock throbs. “But whatever this is, it’s new for me. So uh… you gotta tell me what you want.”

What does Gordon want? It’s such a complicated question right now. There’s so much new information to factor into the equation, about himself, about Benrey. He's vaguely aware that this is significant, that the tension he'd felt all those times was real, was mutual. And now it's broken, The barrier between them shattered. It’s a lot to deal with. But there’s empirical data to suggest what he wants immediately. He wants to fuck the tube in his dick. Or, he wants it to fuck him. No. He wants Benrey to fuck him with it.

“K-…” Gordon pants, trying to look away, but Benrey’s hand holds him still. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Ah...all of it.” It’s a testament to how incredible it feels that his shame is so quickly set aside, that he allows himself to say this.

Benrey tilts his head, pulls his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully, like he’s trying to take stock of what exactly “all of it” is. But Gordon does mean all of it. The attention, the contact, the stimulation both outside and inside, the praise. God, he’s so starved and greedy for all of it.

“Okay,” Benrey says, bottom lip popping back out, shiny and wet. Gordon finds himself staring at it as Benrey shifts in closer, lets go of his jaw and runs his hand over his neck, his chest, stomach. Gordon tries to press into it, scoots forward more on the toilet seat. Benrey grasps the end of the catheter again, pulls it out halfway, and stops. “Just a sec,” he says. His lips purse and he holds his other palm up to his mouth. He parts his lips and saliva spills out from between them to pool into his hand.

Gordon watches, holding onto the edge of the toilet seat with both hands as he pushes his hips up. He gasps, taking more of the catheter into himself, something he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing willingly not thirty minutes ago. He moves back down again, letting the tube slide back out, moaning softly.

“Whoa,” Benrey says, eyes widening, cheeks flushing, “Keep doing that,” he says, watching Gordon fuck the catheter while he holds the end steady, “You’re really fuckin’ hot, you know?”

“Uh…” Gordon’s skin can’t possibly get any redder. It’s like he’s on fire. He does what Benrey asks, thrusting up and down, revelling in the strange, now addictive pleasure of the tube slipping in and out of him. It’s so fucking good, but he’s still left wanting. He zeroes in on Benrey’s wet hand. “Benrey, please…” he breathes.

“Huh? Oh, right,” Benrey blinks and looks at his hand as well. “Sorry,” he says, taking hold of Gordon’s cock, palm now slick with spit, sliding along his length. He squeezes, starts to lift the catheter out and push it back in.

“Mmf!” Gordon covers his mouth, biting into the abused heel of his palm again as he tries to muffle the noises bubbling up in his throat. Fuck, he’d nearly forgotten how wonderful it felt to be touched by anyone, even himself. He’s not going to last long. It’s been a month since he got anything like this, after all, trapped in the suit. And he’s never felt anything so intense as being stroked from both within and without. “Ff...Benrey. More… I need… touch me more,” he finds himself saying, without quite registering it.

“Uh?” Benrey asks, staring at him with hungry eyes. “Yessir.” He pushes the catheter back in deep, lets go so he can wrap an arm around Gordon’s waist. Before Gordon can fully comprehend it, he’s being pulled into Benrey’s lap, legs spread as he straddles him, feet sliding along the still-wet surface of the bathtub. His cock bounces as he’s put into position, catheter jostling and making him gasp.

He barely has time to grab onto Benrey’s shoulders as Benrey takes hold of the catheter again. “Yeah,” Benrey murmurs into his ear, lips tickling the red hot skin of the shell. “Fuck, I love touching you Gordon,” he says as he starts to fuck Gordon’s dick with the catheter again. “So fucking stoked whenever you let me. Can’t stay dead when there’s a chance I might get to put my hands on you again.”

Gordon’s brain is quickly shutting down all rational thought. It's putting all its resources into processing the pleasure and warmth and closeness of Benrey, the deep, intimate penetration of the tube in his cock, the cresting, all-consuming need to find release after so fucking long. Even so, he does have the clear thought that yes, he also really enjoys Benrey touching him, he always has. Gordon no longer tries to stifle his sounds of ecstasy, moaning and swearing with each little movement setting everything inside him alight.

“You gonna come?” Benrey asks, watching Gordon with fervent ardor, so close, pupils so wide and fiercely concentrated on him. “Yeah, you are.” Benrey latches his lips onto the side of Gordon’s neck, sucking hard. He moves the catheter faster, in and out, in and out, deep, shallow, almost fully in, almost fully out. His hand moves from around his cock to pull Gordon closer against him, hand sliding up his back, under his tank top. It might be that, the large, hot, wet palm pressed directly against his skin, holding him close, that puts Gordon over the edge.

“Fffuck!” he cries out, his balls tightening as his cock spasms, semen rushing up the inside of him and hitting the end of the catheter. It’s so strange, so fucking singular and amazing, especially when Benrey pulls the catheter all the way out in one swift motion, drops the tube into the bathtub, and wraps his hand around Gordon again, caressing him through the duration of the orgasm. His cum sluggishly spurts out, hindered by the momentary obstruction, muscles having to push out more volume with less force. It’s no less sublime as it dribbles out over Benrey’s fingers and his cock as Gordon pants and whines, shaking with the almost violent intensity of what he’s feeling.

“Hhhh…” Gordon’s eyelids flutter as he tries to come to terms with the heat and pressure of Benrey against his body. In the heat of the moment it hadn't fully hit him, how weak he still is to skin-to-skin contact. The shower didn’t fully desensitize him, not to this, not to the sensory overload of human(ish) touch. His tear ducts are all but tapped out, but his eyes still sting as he’s inundated by overstimulation, by Benrey holding him close, running a hand over his cheek, the back of his neck, over the bumps of his spine. Gordon presses his forehead into Benrey’s shoulder.

He doesn’t have the strength to hold back now, to deny or push away or run from what’s between them, and what Benrey can offer Gordon. It’s all been smashed in this extremely unexpected act of trust and intimacy, leaving Gordon vulnerable and weak, his whole body a raw, exposed nerve.

He’s such a fucking mess as he shudders and dry-sobs against the other man. It’s as if everything is pouring out of him, and he’d thought he was already empty. Benrey is taking it, arms wrapped around him, soaking up his anxiety and neediness and internal pain like an emotional sponge. It’s almost as blissful as coming had been.

“I…” Gordon doesn’t know what to say. He can’t believe that happened. “Thank you,” he says, because really, it’s exactly what he’s been needing. To be held and not let go. To let himself feel the sort of touch and closeness he desperately craves and desires. To accept he no longer wants to refuse it.

“Any time. I mean it, bro,” Benrey says. “I’ll pull anything outta you. Put stuff in, too. Whatever you want.” Even with mildly disturbing content of the words, Benrey's voice in Gordon’s ear, the vibration against his chest has him wanting to break down all over again. It’s so comforting, so warm, and a tad too much, but he can’t bring himself to pull away. He does pull back a bit, if only to get a proper angle to kiss Benrey long and hard. It’s another thing Benrey clearly hasn’t done before, though he seems eager to learn. Gordon would be more than willing to teach him everything right now, if not for the suddenly very apparent fact that his mouth, and the rest of his body, are extremely dry.

He manages to get a hold on himself somewhat after he’s had a large glass of water, rehydrating after depleting so many different liquids. Gordon lays heavily against Benrey on the couch, drifting between wake and sleep while the other man lounges beneath him and mumbles about his video game collection. He has a feeling it’s going to be a while before he wants to break contact for more than a few minutes. He’s still hungry for the skin-to-skin sensation, the heat and texture, the rumble of Benrey’s words transmitting through his chest. Benrey seems content with this arrangement.

It’s still so unfathomable that the removal of his catheter, of all things, was the final catalyst for this inevitability. But if Gordon seriously thinks about it, what else could have possibly happened? Each time they’d come into physical contact, Gordon wanted more, and now he knows Benrey felt the same. But circumstances, other people, the apocalypse, his own insecurities; it all kept getting in the way, stalling this eventual certainty. Now it’s only them, no time limits, no alarms blaring, no death.

In fact, this is the only possible outcome; a spectacular, ecstatic, devastating collision that leaves them fused together on the couch. Gordon couldn’t dream of a better result.

**Author's Note:**

> There's some physical and physiological facts I chose to ignore for the sake of fuck stuff, don't worry about it.
> 
> Thanks to Prime and Eggnog for beta reading this. And to the horny hlvrai server for generally being awesome.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope I Awakened something in someone somewhere c:


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